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A RIGHT ROYAL RUSE
 BOOK 1

ROYAL RUSE DUET

MAUDE WINTERS
Copyright © 2024 by Maude Winters
All rights reserved.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons,
living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are
trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or vendor
mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.

Cover by Gwendolyn Sams

ISBN: 9798876443465
For all the horses and the girls who love them.
 CONTENTS

Author’s Note

I. Missteps and Mistakes

1. A Violation of Trust
Kiersten
2. Poor Choices Were Made
Olav
3. Hiding Out
Kiersten
4. The Babysitter
Olav
5. The Knight
Kiersten
6. The Princess
Olav
7. To Oslo?
Kiersten
8. Jane Austen, eat your heart out!
Olav
9. Sally
Kiersten
10. Hatching a Plan
Olav
II. The Ruse
11. The Girlfriend
Kiersten
12. No Pressure
Olav
13. An Unforeseen Situation
Kiersten
14. Jumping the Shark
Olav
15. Wedded Bliss
Kiersten
16. What did I do?
Olav
17. Next in Line
Kiersten
18. Horse Girl Support Team
Olav
19. The Other Woman
Kiersten
20. Dear Jealousy
Olav
III. Exit Strategy
21. American Summer Holiday
Kiersten
22. What do we do?
Olav
23. A pudding for your time?
 Kiersten
24. A Situation
Olav
25. The Stalker
Kiersten
26. Sexts and Scandal
Olav
27. The Plan
Kiersten
28. The Fake Fiancée?
Olav
29. Royally Engaged on Paper
Kiersten
30. Promises and Fears
Olav
31. Seating Assignments
Kiersten
1. Loved it?

Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Maude Winters
 AUTHOR’S NOTE

This book is a love letter to offbeat love, the strange ways people find us, and how they see us for who we really are.
The book contains occasional Norwegian (known as Norsk to native speakers)—the hero is Norsk—but you should never
be in doubt due to context. Likewise, it is written in British English, the standard way our hero and heroine would write.
Finally, there are some themes that readers should be aware of. First, the book begins with an injured animal but there are
no animal deaths. You could skip to the second chapter and still get the gist if that is a dealbreaker. The horse recovers after a
fall, but things seem hairy for a bit. There is a situation in which our heroine is involved in some infidelity with her lying boss
(but no on-page action). Finally, there is a dark moment involving a stalker who puts the heroine’s life in danger. There is a
discussion of his bad intentions for her which mentions sexual and physical violence—never in any detail.
Apart from that, expect language, dirty talk, open-door scenes, and a lot of fun!
PART 1
MISSTEPS AND MISTAKES
1
A VIOLATION OF TRUST
Kiersten

I ’m sitting on the back of my horse, tense. It’s cold even for Florida weather. My horse walks in circles, waiting for the two
women before me to go down a tricky bank. My toes fidget in the stirrups as I busy myself, trying to distract from the panic
in my stomach. I take them in and out as my horse trods on the buckle. Manny, short for Manuel, is a little-horse-that-could.
He’s an off-the-track thoroughbred who never made it in my mother’s racing string. A cast-off out of a favourite mare, we’ve
grown up together. He was my mother’s first, then my older sister’s. He became my project when she decided he wasn’t what
she wanted. We’ve been through everything. I trust him with my life.
Unfortunately, I’m about to find out that even my best horse won’t be able to keep me from having a horrible day. In fact,
I’m about to have the worst day yet. I thought it was already dreadful, but it was about to worsen.
The two girls ahead rode through the fence. Our coach, Eddie Dawson, critiques every aspect of taking the fence and the
bank into the water. Eddie is an asshole. More about that later. I am nervous about what he’s going to say to me. I want to cry
and vomit. I want to return to bed. I want anything but this day. And, in retrospect, I should have turned and gone home before I
mounted the horse. I will soon realise that my greatest regret in life won’t be what I thought it was this morning. No, it will be
what happens next.
“Kiersten!” He shouts.
I tremble and look deer-in-the-headlights.
“Issues, princess? Care to try the fence?”
His voice may have once been sweet or even joking, but it is now harsh and hateful. He is, once more, feeling stuck with
me. I’m sorry for myself. I am letting everyone down. I have this chip on my shoulder that I am not good enough and do not
belong. So, I stand in my stirrups, reoriented, and pick up my reins. I squeeze Manny and cluck him into a trot. We’re rolling
now, so I cue for a canter. His strides flow effortlessly up the hill. Then, in a very light seat, I let him out a bit. I ride forward
down the hill and toward the fence at a gallop. At this point, still yards from the fence, something is off. I am trying to set him
up and drive him forward with my seat, but he’s not coming under himself like expected.
“Wake the fuck up, Lyons!” Eddie shouts. “Get him off the fucking forehand!”
Something is wrong. He’s NQR—Not Quite Right. I slow him to a trot, walking him gently on a loose rein.
“What the fuck? Kiersten! Why are you wasting my fucking time?”
“He’s off. I can feel something is off⁠—”
“He’s fine. Don’t be a wuss!”
“Eddie, he’s off.” Pippa—the only other Brit—sticks up for me.
We’re not close, but I appreciate her support.
“He’s NQR, Eddie.”
“Making fucking excuses for yourself! You make choices, and you either own them or you don’t. Fine, run off, cry to daddy
and ask him to buy you a boat or something!”
That angers me. It’s rich coming from a man who, the day before, refused to own his mistakes. Against my better judgement
and trust in my horse, I set off to prove him wrong. We head back up, then down the hill, and take the bank. I can feel my horse
isn’t there. We land, but he goes out from under me. I see myself falling in a terrifying cascade of events. I know it’s coming. I
fall over as he does. I see his eyes, wide and terrified, looking at me.
My constant companion, steady old man, and protector for years is going down. It’s not the first time we’ve fallen, but this
is different. My air vest expands, protecting me from landing too hard. My helmet takes a blow. I lay in the tiny bit of water, out
of breath and in shock. Then, I look over for my horse. expecting to see Manny standing over me, trying to eat my hair. Instead,
I hear splashing.
I sit up, proving I’m fine, and look over. I immediately regret doing so. My horse is the cause of the noise. Manny is stuck
trying to stand. Something is wrong with him. He is in excruciating pain. I try to stand, and Eddie tells me to stay down. I
refuse. I’m sore and rattled but not about to leave my horse like this. In shock, I rush over and try to settle him. I shush Manny
and brush his neck lovingly. Everything I love in this moment is lying there writhing in pain, and I am unprepared to admit how
bad it is.
He stops flailing and sits down.
Chris, an American, calls, “They’re sending the vet. He’s asking if he can stand?”
“No, he can’t.” Pippa approaches me now, a grimace on her face. “Kiersten, darling, you need to go sit on the bank⁠—”
“No! I am not leaving,” I bellow in tears.
I can tell that my horse is unable to stand. I can see he is badly injured, but I am not leaving. I’m in denial. I am sure the vet
can fix this atrocity. I am sure he will leave okay, and I will ride him again. Somehow.
“It’s going to be okay, baby. It’s going to be okay,” I say over and over, rubbing his neck and playing with his forelock.
 Pippa takes his tack off. I watch, remaining steadfast. I have made my home in the water. If I must stay here until the day I
die, I feel committed to doing it. If my horse can survive here, I will stay. If I can be with him, I’m here.
The vet arrives and wants to see if we can get Manny up after giving him some Banamine. He stands, but he’s three-legged
lame. I know the result of my errors. His career is done! Everything is over! I sob. He’s done. I am fortunate he’s still alive, but
I have lost my best companion. I have lost everything!
Eddie tries to comfort me, but I fight him.
“You bastard! You don’t get to touch me!”
He lets me go. Perhaps, he knows he is a bastard? Perhaps, he just doesn’t want to cause a scene?
Chris picks me up and carries me up to the waiting gator that the vet arrived in. He lets me sob into his shoulder and tells
me that it will be okay, and he’ll be loved no matter what. It’s true. Manny will end up somewhere on a beautiful farm, happy
and well-cared for as a beloved pasture ornament.
I can only think about how I have failed the dedicated packer who taught me more about riding than any other animal before
him. I can only think about how many times he saved me when I underestimated a distance or the times he added a stride to
keep me safe. I can only think about the sound of his whinny in the morning or how quickly he could destroy a blanket left
hanging on a stall door unattended. I could only think about how he trusted me and how much I had failed him.
I should have known better. I should have listened to my horse’s cues and my gut instinct. I never should have gone over
that fence. I never should have gotten on the horse. I wish I could turn back time and make it all right again, but I can’t. I feel
like the entire weight of the world is on my shoulders right now. I have failed—failed my horse, failed my family, failed my
team, and failed myself.
We reach the barn and I tell Chris I need a minute. I tell him I will wait until Manny returns even if it takes all night. He
will be brought in a trailer. I deposit myself in the lounge above the indoor arena. Two younger riders are out working on a
course with another coach. I cannot cry anymore. My body is shutting down. I feel as though the world has ended.
Pippa pops in.
“I just ended it all,” I say as Pippa sits by me.
“You didn’t. It happens, sadly. If Eddie wouldn’t have yelled at you⁠—”
“I am my own woman, right? I should be able to choose. And he has a right to be⁠—”
“He has no right, Kiersten. He doesn’t. You just wanted to make everyone happy. You couldn’t have known that was going
to happen.”
“Manny trusted me.”
“I know. He does. But it could have happened to anyone⁠—”
The door opens and Eddie appears.
“No, you get out of here!” Pippa says, voice protective. “You have done more than enough today, Eddie.”
“Pippa, I need to speak with Kiersten⁠—”
“I think she’s had enough of whatever it is you need to say today. She just lost her chance to ride. Her best partner. You
need to leave.”
“Pippa, I’m your coach⁠—”
“You were,” Pippa says.
She’s on her way out—far from Eddie’s tutelage. She’s getting married and moving on. I never understood why she decided
to leave the best coach around but now I wish I had the same option. Moving off to BFE didn’t seem appealing until this
morning. Now, I want to beg Pippa to take me with her. Maybe she and Johan have a spare room? It’s a joke, of course. I can’t
just up and move.
“She needs to get back up and dust herself off.”
“She needs a moment.”
“Horses get injured. Careers end. It is a hard sport and he’s not a young horse. She’s gotta toughen up. She’s always been
so weak.”
My nostrils flare.
“I’m not weak!” I shout. “I am resilient! I am strong! Or, I was. I thought I was. You don’t get to speak for me. You have
done enough Eddie! You can say what you want about me being a terrible rider, buying my way in, dead weight, et cetera.
Meanwhile, you continue to deposit my mother’s checks without protest. You keep me on.”
“You continued to stay on.”
“Yes, well, I thought… I thought there was more going on here. But that is over.”
He glares.
Pippa squeezes my hand. “We should go.”
I nod and squeeze back.
“You will regret this, Kiersten. It doesn’t look good to spend six months with a coach only to⁠—”
“You know what? I really don’t care. I have stuff to do.”
 “Ah, yes, your sister’s all-important wedding. Gotta get back to that, don’t you?”
“I actually care about my family.”
I say it, hoping that the pain stings. I want to turn the knife. I am out for blood. Normally, I avoid conflict, but right now, I
am livid. It’s one thing to fuck with me. It’s another to fuck with my horses. I look at Pippa for support. She is with me, right? I
can’t tell. She doesn’t say a lot. She’s older and wiser. I always want to be like her, but she seems to think I’m not authentic or
something. I get that plenty. I’m used to it by now. Today, though, we are united.
“Just know that you aren’t that talented,” Eddie says. “You are just talented enough. If you think you will ever make your
national team, you’re joking. Although, given who your father is⁠—”
“Stop bringing up my family! God! I am talented! If I were not, you wouldn’t have invited me to Wellington. If I were not,
you never would have accepted me as a student.”
“You’re a very, very pretty and promising girl, Kiersten,” he says in a way that makes me feel ill. “But I don’t think you’re
going to be good enough to make it. Doesn’t mean you won’t. You aren’t brave⁠—”
“She has the best seat of any rider on this team. She is technically qualified. At her age, I could barely get through a
dressage test at an international competition! You’re saying this to be cruel. Do not listen to him, Kiersten. You’re talented. So
talented! Even Johan says so!”
“Well, go on and become a dressage queen. It’s on-brand.”
“Ignore him,” Pippa groans. “Let’s go. You don’t need to hear any more of this.”
She takes my hand and leads me out. I don’t fight her. She’s right.
2
POOR CHOICES WERE MADE
Olav

I startle awake and hear my father’s voice. I wonder about the time and check my phone. It’s only seven. What the hell is he
doing here? I look around the room, which is dark as could be. Ah, I can place myself now. I pray he’s only hassling the
staff or my brother, who has the adjacent bedroom. I hear Peder say something about having been out the night before. Oh,
he’s making up a story. Father is going to see through that.
You see, my father is a quiet, calm man. He generally delegates the anger and spite portions of life to my mother. She’s
much better at frightening people, despite her small stature. My father is wound up today. Something about the papers. I realise
this is bad. It’s probably very bad. Oh, now he’s asking where the fuck I am!
I cringe and sit up, forgetting that there is a brunette in bed. This morning has just gotten even worse. Still more dismal is
that I cannot for the life of me remember her name. What was it? Sanne. No, that’s my friend’s fiancée. And she’s not even
brunette! Why am I having a brain fart? Katrine? Mathilde? Britta? Ah, Britta. That rings a bell.
My father bangs my door and the woman—whatever her name is—stirs. I realise she’s not as attractive as I thought the
night before. I note that the tits are still ace, as they were before, but her face wasn’t abject perfection. She’s also a bit thinner
than I prefer. Oh well, what’s done is done. Poor choices were made. At least I managed to get laid, right? And she’s not
complaining.
“Hi,” she smiles.
I smile back, but Dad shouts, “Olav! Olav! I need to speak to you at once!”
“I will be downstairs in five!” I call back.
She asks, “What is that?”
She only speaks English, and this just got even stranger.
Shit! She’s not Britta. Maybe Brittany? I don’t know.
“That would be my father,” I explain. “And it’s in your best interest to try to get out of here as quickly as possible.”
“Oh… okay.”
“Sorry. He’s… he’s quite wound-up.”
“What about?”
“I haven’t a clue,” I reply.
I’m being honest. I don’t know what his issue is. My head is cloudy.
She departs. Being the gentleman, I take her out through the servant stairs to a car I called which will hopefully make her
walk of shame better. I am not the type to kick a girl out the front gate to an uber. No, that’s more my brother’s style. Now, I
must go downstairs to take my lumps.
I find my father and mother in the dining room. In between them on the massive dining table are several tabloids. I scratch
my head as I read the headlines. Oof. My fate is in multiple languages.
“Do you want to tell me what you were up to last night?”
“I don’t really know,” I answer. “I was out with Peder. We went to a night club. I got really drunk.”
“Yes, clearly!” he declares. “Everyone knows that. Who is this girl? Is she still here?”
“She’s left, Pappa. Calm down. I made sure to send her home. I don’t really know who she is.”
“Olav! You should be ashamed!” My mother’s voice rings out. “Really, I am so livid!”
She’s angry and everyone is speaking English. I’ve fucked up. There are pictures of me snogging multiple girls over the
course of an evening. It’s bad.
“Well, Pappa, they’re obviously wrong!”
“The photos are made up?” He’s not buying it.
“No, I mean, I did make out with a couple girls. However, I never had a threesome. Well, I didn’t have a threesome on this
occasion.”
My mother lets out an exasperated noise and my father sets his jaw.
“Do you ever think about anyone other than yourself, Olav?”
“I do, actually. I work tirelessly⁠—”
“Do you? Or have you just been chasing tail?”
Arguing with him is pointless. Of course, that is what I am doing. I get away with it most nights. On this night, I got too
drunk, ate an edible some girl offered, and veered off course. I have a moment of clarity, but rather than keeping it to myself, I
say it.
“Brianna,” I say.
“What?”
“The brunette. Her name is Brianna. Her friend, Melanie, is the blonde. They’re American. They found my accent
endearing.”
“Well, bully for you,” my father says.
Their continued conversation in English suggests I am utterly, royally fucked. I wince.
My mother says, “Olav, you know how this looks, right?”
I nod slightly.
“It’s dreadful. It’s all over!”
“I know, Mum. I’m sorry,” I groan. “Pappa, I am sorry. I let myself go and… I should have been more aware⁠—”
“That might have flown ten years ago, son, but it doesn’t fly now. You are thirty-one.”
“That is far from aged, Pappa⁠—”
“Your peers are getting married. Natalie and Katrine are both engaged.”
“They’re girls⁠—”
“Paul is twenty-five and engaged to that Sanne girl!”
It was true. He was.
“Yes, even Paul hasn’t been this stupid. And, really, I don’t think of him as the most exceptional prospect,” my father says.
“Gustave, be kind. You know he’s just a bit unique.”
“He’s odd. That is the case. How he landed the daughter of Elisabeth Nordgren, I do not know.”
My father is hung up on this. Elisabeth is a former supermodel that my father and literally every man his age probably
wanked to back in the day. He likes to think of her as one of ours. She married an American businesswoman, has a holiday
home in Oslo she visits sparingly, and while her daughters were born here, they aren’t Norwegian any more than my own
mother. Still, he’s holding onto this sliver of hope.
“I get it, Dad. You would like me to meet a nice Norsk girl to marry. Need I remind you that even you couldn’t do that? And
you were more than my age when you married Mum?”
“I was far more mature than you are. In six years, I will hand this place over to you. It will be yours. What will you have to
show for it? No wife, no children. You will be nearly forty with nothing to show for it. And you’d be lucky if any decent
woman would even bother with you. Maybe another woman in a similar position to you would be understanding for the
pressures you were under, but she’s not likely to be tempted if you are continuing to pull this shit!”
For dramatic effect, he flings a tabloid across the table.
“Pappa, I understand. I’m off the sauce for a bit. Keeping things… calm. But, please, please do not send me around Europe
trying to find a wife. I can think of nothing more mortifying than that.”
“I can’t even think of many prospects,” my mother sighs. “Really, there are only a few and their fathers would toss you out
on your ear.”
“I will meet the right girl when the time is right.”
“Not if you aren’t even trying.”
“You think I am actively avoiding finding a girl?”
“Yes!” My parents respond, in unison.
I scoff. “Pappa, I am not avoiding it. I just got in trouble for snogging two girls⁠—”
“That’s not what we mean, and you know it, Olav!” My mother’s voice is sharp and cross.
She is about to lose it.
Pappa’s hands are balled into fists. His tone is also angry but much calmer. I hate calm. Calm means he’s far gone.
“You aren’t trying to date anyone. When was the last time you did?”
I must think long about it. “What qualifies as dating?”
“Oh, Olav, darling, if you have to ask!” My mother spins around. She paces the length of the dining room shaking her head.
I groan and roll my eyes. “I know. Okay. It has been a bit. Just a bit.”
“Olav, you do not care. Not at all. You do not try to be available. You are acting like a child rather than a grown man.
These recent engagements are just evidence that your peers are moving on in life and leaving you in the dust. I must believe you
can run this ship in the next few years. Can I trust you with that?”
“Dad, whether or not I find a woman⁠—”
“You need a partner. You need someone like your mother who can manage all the nonsense that comes up. And without one,
how on Earth do you intend to have children? You must have children! And it’s something you need to do relatively soon!”
“I’m thirty-one, not fifty!”
“Go on, ask King Robert how well things work with an infant and a new job,” my father says. “Go on, ask him. I can say I
remember how difficult that was for him. It was hardest for Vanora. That woman is saintly, but so is Robert. You are not saintly
—not even respectable at present. You’ll be lucky to land any woman after this stunt. I will remind you that if you find
someone, they are a person who will have to shoulder this burden. Don’t set her up for that.”
He is speaking about the British head of state. Robert’s mother died when he was the father of four young children—the
youngest, Kiersten, basically an infant.
 I groan and sigh. I hate the burden I inherited. By being born, this was what I was gifted. I am jealous of my old friend
George. King Robert’s son was brave enough to leave royalty altogether. And, anyway, everyone seemed to agree Natalie, his
younger twin, was the better choice for heir. A choice. There was no choice. Moreover, Peder was afraid of everything and
had a terrible stutter when speaking publicly. If I left, he would collapse into a shell of himself. I know all of this, so I let it go.
I take a deep breath. I may struggle to behave, but I am no monster.
“What do you propose then? Because I am trying, Pappa. Or, at least I want to try…”
My father answers, “By the end of summer, I’d like to see you try to date a girl. Actually date. Try.”
“Define that? Are we talking a privileged, stuck-up princess whose father would like to ride my arse and⁠—”
“No. Just any nice, respectable, kind girl. I do not care if she is wealthy.”
“Someone educated and capable,” my mother adds. “But perhaps your Aunt Rebecca and I could come up with a list of⁠—”
“Acceptable girls? Fuck no! That isn’t what I want at all. No. Please don’t help me, mother. Nothing could be more
embarrassing than your mother wing-manning for you. I will try. It is not easy⁠—”
“You don’t have to tell me that. However, there is no reason to be rude to your mother or dismiss her suggestion,” Dad
says. “Had your Uncle Duncan not introduced us, I’d never have fallen for your mother.”
“Yes, I am sure the two of them can come up with the perfect woman. Princess such-and-such will be a stuck-up bore.
Mummy, you may have been born a normie, but neither of you is now. You don’t know normal people. Dad, you wanted
someone normal. Mum was normal. I struggle to find normal people. But I will try.”
“If you don’t try. If I don’t see you wise up and grow up, Olav, there will be consequences. I will put you on a leash so
short⁠—”
Fuck. I realise he’s serious. I feel like a kicked puppy about to be disinherited. I merely nod. It’s the best I can do to get out
of there. I leave the dining room, retreating to my room. I text my recently married older cousin Nira, a supermodel, who has
somewhat-normal friends. Yes, supermodels are more normal than royals. I am not sure a supermodel who was raised by
royalty counts as just a supermodel, but I tell myself this is better.

I need to find a girlfriend. Possibly a wife.

She sends a laughing emoji. I send her two knives.

You coming for Ed’s stag?

Sure.
I will try.

When you say girlfriend, do you mean an actual girlfriend?

Yes.

I have no actual prospects. Lots of people who would fancy a hookup.

I have to behave now.

You think you’re reformed?

Even my cousin doesn’t believe I’m capable. I am so fucked. Unless the most magical girl on earth walks into my life over
the next few weeks, my father may never forgive me, and the entire country will never forget how much I am a fuck up. There
could be a redemption arc here without this perfect, respectable proto-crown-princess.
3
HIDING OUT
Kiersten

I hide away for a week in my childhood bedroom before I finally agree to visit the stables with my mother. And even then, I
struggle to ride—choosing to groom a few pregnant mares and to play with some new babies rather than mount up and ride
out. It has been more than a week since I was atop a horse. I can count on my hand the number of times I have said that
since I could remember. Horses have been central to my life since birth. My mother is a horsewoman. Everyone in our family
rides. This time of year, the delivery of babies was the best distraction.
I just can’t do it. Manny is still in the States for however long he needs before we clear him for safe travel. Sadly, there
was no consensus on when that might be. The vet warned that a transatlantic flight was a long way off. He may end up stuck on
mum’s family farm in Kentucky. Either way, it hurts to think about a future where his head doesn’t greet me every morning in the
barn aisle.
I did not go to my old coach’s stables to visit my horses. They are ridden by working students and in a routine. I tell myself
I do not want to disrupt them. However, I am being a coward and cannot picture myself getting through a ride. I am petrified the
minute I think of a fence. This fear has been welling up for months, but one fall and the loss of one horse to injury has shaken
me beyond help. I have lost my nerve. Then, one day, Pippa rings. She is again home and wants to meet. My gut told me not to
go, but she seemed genuine.
I pull my boots on and arrive at the barn. I check my horses but dodge the British coach, not ready to discuss what
happened while I was abroad. I cannot handle the pity and sympathy, or explain that I feel responsible for my horse’s career-
ending injury. I cannot bring myself to discuss anything else that led up to that moment. I still feel like I am running from it all. I
retreat from my own demons.
“There you are,” Pippa says.
“Yeah,” I say.
“Where’s your horse?” she asks. “Did you not grab one?”
“I’m… not riding,” I reply.
“Nonsense. You must get back out there! Let’s just go out for a hack.”
I am sick at the thought of taking fences.
“I just… jumping⁠—”
She looks sympathetic but doesn’t call me out. “Oh, sure. Well, let’s just stay on the flat.”
“Both of mine have been worked today.”
“You have a multitude of excuses, don’t you, Kiersten? Okay, fine. Johan!”
Kiersten’s tall glass of a fiancé pokes his head out of a stall. “Yes?”
“Can she take Dimma out?” Pippa asks.
“Who?”
“Kiersten. Her two have been worked today. She doesn’t want to pull them out. We’re just going to stay on the flat.”
“Sure, why not?”
It befuddles me why anyone would just hand me a known Grand Prix horse, but here I am. Johan is an international
dressage star. Pippa makes fun of him, but he is adorably sweet to her. They have an sweet back-and-forth. She’s sunshine, he’s
grumpy. I should be terrified to get up on the mountain-sized horse that takes up more than my entire leg, but I’m used to it.
Somehow, it is easier to be up on an unknown horse rather than to feel guilty on my own. I cannot explain it.
“You feel okay?” Pippa asks, plodding along on one of her youngsters.
“She’s like a couch you can ride. I’m fine.”
“If you get her going in a passage, you might be jolted right out.”
“Clearly. God, she’s lovely.” I pat the mare’s neck.
It’s nice to just ride. It’s different. There is no expectation of perfection or goals. This is about enjoying the view from
between the ears of a horse.
“It’s good to see you back up. I was worried you might never return. I know you were rattled but I hoped it wouldn’t keep
you grounded.”
“I dunno. I am in denial about everything. The injury⁠—”
“Did you read the imaging results?”
“I didn’t have the heart,” I admit.
“You should. I know it’s going to be painful, but you should. This wasn’t your fault.”
“Manny was off. I spoke with the vet. That should be enough. You saw it, too?”
“He was off and you knew him best. But it wasn’t your fault. Sadly, these things happen. You could have been trotting him
one day. He could have been in the pasture. It was a freak accident. Honestly. You must stop beating yourself up. I’m going to
be around for a few weeks. I can’t ride for Eddie anymore. I wish I would have left his services ages ago. Johan doesn’t want
me there anymore and it's not good for me⁠—”
“It’s bloody Wellington!”
“It’s good but so is home,” Pippa shrugs. “You aren’t at fault for what happened. You will kick yourself, but you need to
stop it. Things happen. It’s a dangerous sport and he’s going to be a beloved pasture ornament. You’re going to be here with me
every day until I leave.”
“Probably not every day. My sister is getting married⁠—”
“Okay, but a lot? We leave for the motherland soon enough. Until then, I’m going to get you back out here and get your head
out of your arse, kiddo. It is hard. What you went through is traumatic, but it’s not your fault. And it’s not going to be the last
time you lose a horse. Eddie is right about that.”
I grimaced.
“This wasn’t right. I’ll grant you. You take care of your horses, as we do ours. You’re a good horsewoman. I never pegged
you the type to ace a horse into abandon and ride off into the sunset. But horses… they are athletes. Athletes have varied
careers.”
“I don’t know if I can do it.”
“You can. You absolutely can. And you will because you are so much stronger than you give yourself credit for.”
“I am a piece of shit.”
“You’re not. Why would you say that?”
“I had no business being there. He selected me because⁠—”
“He selected you because you are a hell of a little rider, kid. You earned it. Ask Johan. He thinks you have a much better
seat than I do.”
“You are amazing, though. I am⁠—”
“Young. Green? Yeah. But you are so talented. Do not let some stupid man make you feel you don’t deserve to be there. He
has spent the last year grooming you. Do you not see that? And then he dropped you onto your head and shouted at you.”
“I never should have been on a horse that day. It was a terrible idea.”
“You didn’t want to let him win?”
I shake my head.
“Yeah, you’re not the first girl to have to make that choice.”
“What?”
“I don’t know if it is better or worse to tell you that you are not the first girl he’s done this with. You aren’t.”
I look at her, confused.
“Eddie likes young, sweet, talented girls who will fawn over his coaching. He loves a cult of impressionable, pretty young
things following him around. I don’t mean to make you sound simple. You’re not. It is not your fault that he glommed onto you
and abused his power. He only thinks with his cock.”
“Yes, but there are two people to blame⁠—”
“You weren’t married to Moira. He was. She caught you two. Sure, was it the most savoury thing? No, love. It wasn’t. But
how many of us would have fallen for him at your age? Nearly every woman in that barn. You’re young, you’re green, and he’s
very convincing.”
“I shagged a married man—for a while. Do you realise the scandal that could be? I am so ashamed!”
“He abused his power. He sexually harassed you and abused is power as your coach. You are a victim. Boom. Spun it.”
“It’s not like he held me down.”
“He’s good enough that every Brit wants to winter in Wellington. We are a powerhouse compared to the damn Americans,
and still we go. You’re a young athlete cutting her teeth. He sold you a bag of wank.”
“He was always sweet to me.”
“Of course he was! Look, I know. I know because he tried the same thing with me. I didn’t go for it. I knew plenty of good
riders who did. And you know what happened to them?”
I shake my head.
“They are riding for national teams. He has the results. He’s the best, but also put you in an impossible situation that
endangered your horse. He was screaming at you to take the bank, Kiersten. If he had just accepted you were shell-shocked,
you wouldn’t have gotten on that horse.”
“Manny would still be competing, too.”
“I wish I could believe that, love,” she says, voice quiet. “You need to read the results. You did the best you could to put
him in a pasture.”
“He deserves to be out there riding,” I say, fighting tears.
“Nah. A horse belongs in a paddock running free most of all. Retirement will be good to him. He was an honourable soul.
You will miss your buddy. But that doesn’t mean all is lost! Knowing how your family spoils their mounts, he’ll be fine. Stop
making this about him. You are frightened. You are worried about your next chapter.”
“Neither of my prospects is the horse,” I admit.
“You will find the horse. You just need a reset. Keep your options open. Go back to basics. Overcome this fear,” Pippa
says.
I mull over her words as we canter back towards the barn. What had the vet found that I had not known? I worry about it as
I untack Dimma. I thank Johan for letting me ride her. She was a joy. A balm. I pack up, kiss my horses, and begin to head out.
That’s when Pippa shouts after me.
“Hey! I want to see you back here tomorrow. Jumps, maybe? Just schooling⁠—”
“I can’t. I just… I’m not ready to put my body through that. I will shut down. I am not ready.”
“Come out anyway. Johan has a morning group lesson. Join them. I’ll sweet talk him into it.”
“Dressage? Me?”
“Oh, you can handle a few hours of morning dressage. It’s good for your constitution—according to Johan.”
I snicker. “Fine, fine.”
At home, I check my email for the test results. I suddenly understand why Pippa told me to read them. She’d stuck around to
find out what really happened. She’d done it to protect me, maybe? Either way, the results were clear. This was part of a larger
issue. Manny had an existing stress fracture at the time of the accident—perhaps for a long while. He’d given me everything he
had in the process. Each ride, however, made it worse. What we’d taken as a bit of morning stiffness common in older horses
like Manny was likely soreness related to a soon-to-be cannon bone fracture. I could have walked him one day and he might
have fallen.
Manny had a high pain tolerance. He never showed what he felt. We’d often not know if something bothered him until he
was getting a massage and he leaned into the sore area. He was such a good, reliable old man. I felt helpless, but now I
realised it could have happened even if I hadn’t been on his back that day.
I want to curse Eddie into oblivion. I feel like a stupid baby. Deep down, I know Pippa is right. I knew she had seen it
before. I trusted she wasn’t blowing smoke. How had I not seen what he was up to? Why had I ever slept with him? Why did I
believe that his marriage was over? Does everyone else know? And what do they think of me? I feel like some sort of daft
home-wrecker.
I look at a photo of myself astride Manny at Blenheim last year and sob some more. It all feels so heavy. I realise that the
love I have for the horse does not extend to the sport right now. Horses come before sport and I’m not safe over fences. Right
now, I cannot imagine a happy day at a horse trial. My will to run at solid fences, catapulting over them, is gone. Maybe I’m a
baby? Or, maybe Eddie has taken away all the fun that comes with it? Maybe Pippa is right and I can pull it together? Deep
down, though, I know something must change. The horse must come first. My mother says it all the time. She’s right. She would
know.
If I get back on a horse, I will do it under my terms from here on. No more solid fences until I am ready. I am not going to
let anyone frighten me into it. No one is ever going to tear me down again. No one knows my self-worth but me. I am not going
to let Manny’s injury pass without a lesson learned. Yes, horses sometimes have accidents. Yes, they are unfortunate, but I
know my horse best. And the horse will always come first.
4
THE BABYSITTER
Olav

I sit across the restaurant table from a girl named Sofie. She’s what you might describe as statuesque—long blonde hair, legs
for miles, and a great smile. In theory, she’s perfect. I tell myself to keep an open mind, drink one glass of wine, and pack it
in early. I must catch a flight early tomorrow to go to the future Prince of Wales’s stag party. It’s one of those dreadfully
annoying stag-hen parties that are all the rage. It is basically just a hen party with men. While I loathe these things, it’s probably
good for me. I hope my cousin Nira has hot friends. I won’t be able to do much without getting my hand slapped, but I might
enjoy the evening anyway.
Yes, my mind drifts once more. I again try to keep an open mind. My brother says this girl is a sweetheart. It’s a friend-of-
a-friend pity date. The pity is for me. She’s not saying that everyone here thinks I am a royal fuck up, but she’s not-not saying it,
either. She’d either be terribly daft or living under a rock if she didn’t realise I’m a rake not to be trusted, right? That means,
given she even agreed to go on this date, she is either terribly daft or cannot read. Alternatively, she’s just a gold digger
looking to marry a crown prince. That is the worst-case scenario.
She orders a glass of fizzy water and salad. I think that is her starter. Then, this Sofie girl, explains that she is on a cleanse
and can’t eat actual food after three PM. What? Okay, that’s at least a yellow card. Part of me immediately wants to give her a
red card and leave. You must eat actual food. Still, some women get nervous about eating because of some patriarchal bullshit.
I dunno. I am not supposed to hold that against her. I decline a drink and order fizzy water. I can handle that, right? That shows
restraint.
We discuss her dog. Oh, that’s nice. I love dogs, so this puts me at ease. She is very pretty. I can almost get over the salad
now. Our dinner arrives and I am excited to see a steak and potatoes. Nothing could be better than a steak you didn’t have to
make yourself, right? Well, not to Sofie.
“Oh, I don’t eat red meat at all,” Sofie says.
I do not ask her opinion, but she offers it.
“Oh, really?” I ask.
No, I don’t care for her opinion. I am eating this damn steak.
“No. I don’t. I think it is terrible for your health. Have you heard of Hallie Richards?”
Oh, God. Yes, everyone has heard of Hallie Richards. She’s a celebrity self-help, starvation guru. I want to flee! This is a
red card. Not only does this prove she can read, but also that her judgement is poor. There is no other explanation for her
interest in me than her desire for wealth and fame. Joke’s on her. I’m going to pay this check and skip town.
“I just think she’s really wise.”
“Yeah, I know… of her,” I answer, hiding my dismay.
“Oh, so don’t you just think she’s great?”
“No,” I reply. “I don’t really like her. I think she tells people to do things that are against science.”
She tilts her head.
“I have a biology degree,” I explain. “And her stuff is pseudo-science.”
“People can believe in alternative medicine, don’t you think?”
God, this keeps getting worse! I try to keep it diplomatic while resisting the urge to burst into nervous laughter.
“Uh, I do think people can… disagree. I think if people want to use holistic therapies in conjunction with medicine,
whatever makes them happy. Where I draw the line is when people advocate for people to abstain from vaccinating their
children⁠—”
“But isn’t that the beauty of individual choice?”
“I think endangering the community for your own beliefs is the antithesis of a good set of values.”
Oh, well, Olav, don’t be diplomatic then. I cannot help it. She’s hit the “anti-science” button. We are incompatible. It turns
out I do have standards, after all. Sadly, they are hitting at the start of the main course. There isn’t even booze to soften this
blow. We’re stone cold sober, and I want to get out so fast.
“Well, I think she can be inspiring. She owns her own sexuality.”
I disagreed with that, too. I thought she pandered and told women to stick things in their vaginas that didn’t belong there.
Or, at least, that is what my cousins would say. They loathed the charlatan. However, I’m not about to discuss vaginas in a
clinical sense over dinner with a woman I don’t know. Even I would not go there. I shrug and control my urge to run.
Then, I excuse myself to the men’s room and did the cowardly thing. I stop to talk to my protection officer guarding the
door.
“Look, I’m going to need you to interrupt me for an important emergency in approximately five minutes, alright?” I ask.
He nods. I feel like a coward as I return to my seat and smile like all is well. She goes on about how her sister is having a
baby and how much she wants one herself. My soul has already left my body. I might die here! What is worse is that I never got
to finish this beautiful steak.
I look at my detail as he approaches.
“Your Royal Highness,” he whispers. “I am so sorry to interrupt your dinner, but we have a situation, and your father must
speak to you immediately.”
“Oh, that sounds interesting!” Sofie chirps.
So, she’s anti-science and she’s daft? Brilliant.
“No, Sofie, I’m sorry. I must leave. Alone.”
“Oh.” She pouts.
I find it annoying, not adorable. Sometimes, I find it cute when women do this. However, she just looks like an angry child.
I leave a stack of bills on the table. “This should cover it. Leave the rest as gratuity.”
I leave, unable to stomach further conversation. Dating and I? We’re a disaster. I plead with my driver to go to a burger
place and proceed to gorge myself on delicious fast food. Part of it is out of necessity. I’m hungry. I’m not going to ask my staff
to feed me. The other part is that it’s a giant middle finger to anti-science Barbie. I wonder if that is fair? Barbie has scientist
dolls, doesn’t she? Either way, that would never work. I arrive back home and go to sleep, ready to greet the day on a new
shore.
The next morning, we arrive in London, and I meet with the Norwegian ambassador to the UK. She’s new. I am charming
but I can tell she’s disappointed in me. Everyone is. I am certain of it. After a brief morning meeting with her, I am whisked
away to Kensington Palace to stay with my aunt and uncle. I am being babysat but also staying next to my cousin’s cousin,
Natalie, and her fiancé, Ed. They live in the adjacent apartment.
“Are you coming or what?” I hear as I try to sort out what I am going to wear in the evening.
My cousins, Nira, Victoria, Christie, and Nora stand there all in dresses far too short to be socially acceptable at a
respectable occasion. They aren’t fucking around. Nor should I be, obviously.
I expected this for Nira. Nira isn’t of royal blood. She’s the daughter my aunt had before meeting Prince Duncan, my uncle.
She’s thirty-seven and a hell-raiser. She’s going without her husband, Auggie, because he’s on a book tour. The next-eldest,
Victoria, is generally quite good. She’s my age. I fully believe that I was the result of my mother trying to keep up or one-up her
own sister. They have a complicated, competitive relationship. Christie is the next oldest. She’s thirty and named after my
mother. She is often quite direct and short, like her namesake. And then there is Nora, who is twenty-five. She’s the sweet,
spoiled one. All three of Duncan’s biological children look like him. The Lyons genes run deep.
“I’m trying to figure out what the fuck I need to wear.”
“Nothing much,” Nira says.
“Well, I’d look a bit silly in a minidress, Nira.”
“Natalie gets annoyed when we are late, you know?” Christie says. “Hurry the fuck up.”
“Christie, calm down,” Victoria tells her.
“Well, head out or I’m not going to be able to change,” I tell them. I get a series of eye-rolls as the women depart.
My uncle shouts as they go downstairs. “Where on Earth are the other parts of those dresses? Your Uncle will have a heart
attack if all of you go out like that.”
I snicker. The idea that a grown woman—as all of them are—should have her outfit choices dictated by a man in his late
fifties or early sixties was ridiculous. Let them be, I thought. Brits were so prudish. My father never would have commented
for fear of a verbal lashing in the press for trying to control his daughters. Meanwhile, it was fine to police women for their
outfits here.
The five of us head next door where I realise I’m going to babysit someone. Natalie has a few of her friends, and her fiancé
Ed invite his mates. Natalie’s younger brother Paul, his half-Norwegian fiancée Sanne, and Natalie’s twin brother George, and
his husband Patrick are there. However, despite all the grown-ups, I realise we have two liabilities. My cousins have cousins
even younger than them. This includes Princess Kiersten, Natalie’s younger sister who is barely old enough to drink actual
alcohol in my home country, and her bestie, Princess Margaux. She goes by Greta at present—she can’t drink anything but weak
beer back home. She’s a tender twenty and I am regretting coming along. There is nothing worse than babysitting a bunch of
girls not even out of uni.
The thing is, I might be a terrible scoundrel, but I am not a dickhead. I want to make sure everyone is safe. I suppose I am a
bit of a worrier. Despite what you might think, I am protective. Given that both of their fathers are like surrogate uncles, I feel
obligated to care. I don’t know either of them well but can already tell that dear Greta is not going to hold her liquor well. Oh,
joy! I must be a grownup. I know my place.
We’ll take dinner at this posh place in Shoreditch. Fine. Sounds good. I order a steak and bask in that. If I must babysit a
bunch of little girls, I’m going to make sure I will not do it on an empty stomach. I drink one glass of wine and restrain myself.
It isn’t that I want to get terribly drunk. I just want to enjoy myself.
“So, how did the date go?” Nira sips a cocktail with some made up French name.
The place is pretentious.
Another random document with
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the system inaugurated by David, and treats this edifying topic at
some length.

²And Hezekiah appointed the courses of the

priests and the Levites after their courses,
every man according to his service, both the
priests and the Levites, for burnt offerings and
for peace offerings, to minister, and to give
thanks, and to praise in the gates of the camp
of the Lord.
2. the courses] Compare 1 Chronicles xxiv. 1 ff.

to minister, and to give thanks, and to praise in the gates] Better,

as LXX., altering the order, to give thanks and to praise and to
minister in the gates. “To minister in the gates,” i.e. to be
doorkeepers, compare 1 Chronicles xxvi. 1.

the camp of the Lord] i.e. (in the language of Deuteronomy) “the
place which the Lord chose,” Jerusalem or, more exactly, the Temple
area. Compare 1 Chronicles ix. 18, note.

³He appointed also the king’s portion of his

substance for the burnt offerings, to wit, for the
morning and evening burnt offerings, and the
burnt offerings for the sabbaths, and for the
new moons, and for the set feasts, as it is
written in the law of the Lord. ⁴Moreover he
commanded the people that dwelt in
Jerusalem to give the portion of the priests
and the Levites, that they might give
themselves ¹ to the law of the Lord.
 ¹ Hebrew be strong in.

3. the burnt offerings] Compare viii. 12, 13.

⁵And as soon as the commandment came

abroad, the children of Israel gave in
abundance the firstfruits of corn, wine, and oil,
and honey, and of all the increase of the field;
and the tithe of all things brought they in
abundantly.
5. and honey] Honey (Hebrew dĕbhash) is not elsewhere
mentioned as subject to tithe; perhaps grape syrup (modern Arabic
dibs) is meant here, as in Genesis xliii. 11 and Ezekiel xxvii. 17
(according to some commentators). Honey (like leaven) was
forbidden for sacrificial use (Leviticus ii. 11).

⁶And the children of Israel and Judah, that

dwelt in the cities of Judah, they also brought
in the tithe of oxen and sheep, and the tithe of
dedicated things which were consecrated unto
the Lord their God, and laid them by heaps.
6. And the children of Israel] Compare xi. 16.

the tithe of dedicated things] a strange phrase without parallel.

Read probably the dedicated things.

⁷In the third month they began to lay the

foundation of the heaps, and finished them in
the seventh month. ⁸And when Hezekiah and
the princes came and saw the heaps, they
 blessed the Lord, and his people Israel.
⁹Then Hezekiah questioned with the priests
and the Levites concerning the heaps.
7. the third month] The Feast of Harvest took place at the
beginning of this month and seven weeks later the Feast of
Ingathering followed.

¹⁰And Azariah the chief priest, of the house of

Zadok, answered him and said, Since the
people began to bring the oblations into the
house of the Lord, we have eaten and had
enough, and have left plenty: for the Lord
hath blessed his people; and that which is left
is this great store.
10. Azariah the chief priest] Not mentioned in connection with
Hezekiah’s previous arrangements.

of the house of Zadok] Compare 1 Chronicles xxiv. 1‒4. Tradition

spoke of two main families of priests, (1) the descendants of Eleazar
the third son of Aaron, whose chief representative in David’s day
was Zadok (hence they are here called “the house of Zadok”), (2) the
descendants of Ithamar the fourth son of Aaron, represented in
David’s time by Ahimelech (Saul’s victim) or by Abiathar (David’s
protégé). The Chronicler prefers to name the descendants of Ithamar
after Ahimelech (1 Chronicles xxiv. 3, where see note).

the oblations] “The Hebrew word, tĕrūmāh, denotes properly

what is ‘taken off’ from a larger mass and so separated from it for
sacred purposes.” The word is sometimes rendered heave offering,
but this is due to a mistaken impression that a rite of elevation was
involved (see the full note in Driver, Exodus, p. 263).
 hath blessed his people] Compare Malachi iii. 10.

and that which is left is this great store] The Hebrew requires
some correction. Read as the LXX., καὶ κατελίπομεν ἐπὶ τὸ πλῆθος
τοῦτο, “we leave (‘have left’) this great store and more.”

11‒13. The offerings mentioned in verses 5‒10 were placed in

charge of Conaniah, Shimei and their subordinates for storage in the
Temple treasuries.

¹¹Then Hezekiah commanded to prepare

chambers in the house of the Lord; and they
prepared them.
11. chambers] compare 1 Chronicles ix. 26, note.

¹²And they brought in the oblations and the

tithes and the dedicated things faithfully: and
over them Conaniah the Levite was ruler, and
Shimei his brother was second.
12. the dedicated things] Compare xxix. 33 (note on the
consecrated things).

¹³And Jehiel, and Azaziah, and Nahath, and

Asahel, and Jerimoth, and Jozabad, and Eliel,
and Ismachiah, and Mahath, and Benaiah,
were overseers under the hand of Conaniah
and Shimei his brother, by the appointment of
Hezekiah the king, and Azariah the ruler of the
house of God.
 13. the ruler of the house of God] Compare 1 Chronicles ix. 11,
note.

14‒19. Distribution of the stores referred to in verses 11‒13 was

the duty of Kore and his subordinates. The exact meaning and
sequence of these verses is hard to follow, and probably the
obscurity is due to faults in the Hebrew text. The simplest view is as
follows: verse 15 states that the distribution was to be made to
priestly and levitical persons resident in the priestly cities but (verse
16) not to those who were for the time being on duty at the Temple,
since these no doubt would receive their share at the Temple itself.
Then verses 17‒19 seem to refer to the manner of the registration of
priests and Levites respectively for the purpose of the distribution;
but it must be confessed that the precise sense and connection are
uncertain, particularly as regards verse 19.

¹⁴And Kore the son of Imnah the Levite, the

porter at the east gate, was over the freewill
offerings of God, to distribute the oblations of
the Lord, and the most holy things.
14. the most holy things] To this class belonged the shewbread
(Leviticus xxiv. 9), the meal offering (Leviticus ii. 2, 3, vi. 14‒18 [7‒
11, Hebrew]), the sin offering (Leviticus vi. 25‒30), and the trespass
offering (Leviticus vii. 1‒7). These could be eaten by the priests only
and in the holy place only.

¹⁵And under him were Eden, and Miniamin,

and Jeshua, and Shemaiah, Amariah, and
Shecaniah, in the cities of the priests, in their
set office ¹, to give to their brethren by courses,
as well to the great as to the small:
¹ Or, trust.
 15. in the cities] The priestly cities are given 1 Chronicles vi. 54‒
60.

to the great as to the small] i.e. to old and to young alike.

¹⁶beside them that were reckoned by

genealogy of males, from three years old and
upward, even every one that entered into the
house of the Lord, as the duty of every day
required ¹, for their service in their charges
according to their courses;
¹ Or, for his daily portion.

16. beside] i.e. with the exception of.

as the duty of every day required] Or, as margin, for his daily
portion.

¹⁷and them that were reckoned by genealogy

of the priests by their fathers’ houses, and the
Levites from twenty years old and upward, in
their charges by their courses;
17. and them that] Render probably and as for the registration
of the priests it was made by their families....

¹⁸and them ¹ that were reckoned by genealogy

of all their little ones, their wives, and their
sons, and their daughters, through all the
congregation: for in their set office ² they
sanctified themselves in holiness:
 ¹ Or, even to give to them &c. ² Or, trust.

18. and them that] Render, and the registration included all
their little ones, etc. The connection of the last part of the verse is
very obscure.

their set office] Or, as margin, their trust (so also above verse
15).

they sanctified themselves in holiness] Or, they busied

themselves with the distribution of the sanctified things. No reliance
can be placed on the soundness of the text.

¹⁹also for the sons of Aaron the priests, which

were in the fields of the suburbs of their cities,
in every several city, there were men that were
expressed by name, to give portions to all the
males among the priests, and to all that were
reckoned by genealogy among the Levites.
²⁰And thus did Hezekiah throughout all Judah;
and he wrought that which was good and right
and faithful ¹ before the Lord his God. ²¹And in
every work that he began in the service of the
house of God, and in the law, and in the
commandments, to seek his God, he did it
with all his heart, and prospered.
¹ Hebrew faithfulness.

19. Again a most obscure verse, apparently meaning that the

priests had certain special officers, other than Kore and his
subordinates, who were charged with superintending the distribution
in the outlying districts. Text and interpretation are alike uncertain.
Kittel regards verses 17‒19 as a late addition.

the suburbs] compare 1 Chronicles v. 16 (margin “pasture

lands”), vi. 55, 57 [40, 42, Hebrew].

Chapter XXXII.
1‒8 (compare 2 Kings xviii. 13‒16).
Sennacherib’s threatened Invasion. Hezekiah’s Precautions.

The Chronicler introduces us somewhat abruptly to the Assyrian

crisis. From 2 Kings we learn that Hezekiah renounced the
suzerainty of Assyria (xviii. 7), which his father Ahaz had
acknowledged (2 Kings xvi. 7). Thereupon Sennacherib invaded
Judah, and Hezekiah was obliged to acknowledge with a heavy
payment of tribute his dependence on the Assyrian king (2 Kings
xviii. 13‒16). Sennacherib having discovered the weakness of
Judah, next demanded an unconditional surrender, intending to
transport the Jews to another country (2 Kings xviii. 31, 32). This
demand Hezekiah resisted, being strengthened thereto by Isaiah.
The Chronicler does not refer to the earlier invasion or to the tribute
—such a humiliation of the pious and devoted king being in his belief
unthinkable. That any invasion should have taken place “after these
things and this faithfulness” was sufficiently astonishing, until the
issue showed that the anxiety and distress were only for the greater
glory of Israel’s God and for the further proof of Hezekiah’s trust in
Him.

¹After these things, and this faithfulness,

Sennacherib king of Assyria came, and
entered into Judah, and encamped against the
 fenced cities, and thought to win them ¹ for
himself. ²And when Hezekiah saw that
Sennacherib was come, and that he was
purposed ² to fight against Jerusalem,
¹ Hebrew to break them up.

² Hebrew his face was to fight.

1. After these things, and this faithfulness] The phrase is a

hendiadys and stands for, “After these faithful dealings.”

Sennacherib] This king (Sanḥērib in Hebrew, Sin-aḥi-irib [-irba] in

Assyrian, the Σαναχάριβος of Herod. II. 141) reigned 705‒681 b.c. He
was the son of Sargon (Isaiah xx. 1), father of Esar-haddon (2 Kings
xix. 37; Ezra iv. 3), and grandfather of Asshur-bani-pal, the well-
known Σαρδανάπαλλος of Herod. II. 150, who is commonly identified
with Osnappar (compare Ezra iv. 10). Under this dynasty Assyria
reached the height of its power. The empire included Babylonia
(which, however, was frequently in revolt), Assyria proper, Syria as
far north as Cilicia (inclusive), and (under Esar-haddon and Asshur-
bani-pal) Egypt. After Asshur-bani-pal’s death (about 626 b.c.) the
Assyrian power was speedily destroyed. The form Sennacherib is
derived from the LXX. through the Vulgate.

to win them] Literally to make breaches in them. According to 2

Kings xviii. 13 Sennacherib took these cites; and the Assyrian
account on the “Prism Inscription” of Sennacherib which is preserved
in the British Museum states that they were forty-six in number
(compare Driver in Hogarth, Authority and Archaeology, pp. 104‒
107; or Handcock, Latest Light on Bible Lands, pp. 153 ff.).

³he took counsel with his princes and his

mighty men to stop the waters of the fountains
 which were without the city; and they helped
him.
3. to stop the waters] Compare 2 Kings xx. 20 “[Hezekiah] made
the pool and the conduit and brought water into the city,” and Isaiah
xxii. 9, 11.

At the present day there is an underground tunnel cut through the

rock leading from St Mary’s Well down to the Lower Pool of Siloam
(Bädeker, Palestine⁵, pp. 25, 83). It is rudely constructed and owing
to its windings is 586 yards long, though the distance in a straight
line is only 368 yards. As therefore the Lower Pool was probably
within the ancient walls, while St Mary’s Well was outside, this tunnel
may be Hezekiah’s conduit. If the well were stopped, the besiegers
would lose the water, which would collect in the Pool for the use of
the besieged. An inscription in ancient Hebrew characters (“The
Siloam Inscription”) discovered in situ describes briefly the digging of
the tunnel, but does not enable us to fix the date of it with certainty.
For the original text and an English translation see G. A. Smith,
Jerusalem, I. 95 f., or Driver, Notes on Hebrew Text of Samuel, viii.
ff.

⁴So there was gathered much people together,

and they stopped all the fountains, and the
brook that flowed through the midst of the
land, saying, Why should the kings of Assyria
come, and find much water?
4. the brook that flowed] The Hebrew verb means “flow with
strong stream” (as a flood). We naturally look for such a brook either
east of Jerusalem in the valley of Kidron or south in the valley of the
son of Hinnom, but no perennial stream runs in either valley now.
Possibly (owing to physical changes in the configuration of the
country) the waters which fed such a brook in the Chronicler’s day
now lose themselves in the soil.
 ⁵And he took courage, and built up all the wall
that was broken down, and raised it up to the
towers ¹, and the other ² wall without, and
strengthened Millo in the city of David, and
made weapons and shields in abundance.
¹ Or, heightened the towers Or, went up upon the towers The
Vulgate has, built towers thereon.

² Or, another.

5. broken dozen] Compare xxv. 23 (note).

raised it up to the towers] Hebrew vayya‘al ‘al. Read and he

heightened the towers, i.e. omitting the second ’al as a dittography.

the other wall] In Isaiah xxii. 9‒11 the preparations to meet the
Assyrian attack are described by the prophet who speaks of a “ditch”
(Revised Version “reservoir”) made at this time between “the two
walls.” In Excavations at Jerusalem, 1894‒1897, Dr Bliss describes
a buttressed wall (pp. 96 ff.) built without lime (see his frontispiece
for an illustration of it) and enclosing the pool of Siloam on the south-
east, which, he says, “may date back as far as Hezekiah” (pp. 325
f.). Dr Bliss also, following up a clue given by earlier explorers, found
a second wall (running at an angle to the first) enclosing the pool on
the west. This second wall was probably due to Herod, but Dr Bliss
suggests that the line it follows may have been defended by a wall
as early as Hezekiah’s day (p. 326). For further discussion see G. A.
Smith, Jerusalem, I. 182, 207.

Millo] compare 1 Chronicles xi. 8, note.

weapons and shields] Properly, darts and shields. These were

meant, not for such trained soldiers as Hezekiah could collect, but
for the levy en masse with which the king proposed to man the walls.
A dart to throw and a shield to protect the thrower as he threw were
all that the citizen-soldier needed. The Hebrew word (shelaḥ) means
“dart, missile”; the more general rendering “weapons” obscures the
precise nature of Hezekiah’s preparations.

⁶And he set captains of war over the people,

and gathered them together to him in the
broad place at the gate of the city, and spake
comfortably to them, saying, ⁷Be strong and of
a good courage, be not afraid nor dismayed
for the king of Assyria, nor for all the multitude
that is with him: for there is a greater ¹ with us
than with him:
¹ Or, there be more.

6. in the broad place at the gate] Compare xxix. 4; Nehemiah viii.

16. There is nothing here to show which of the two broad places
mentioned in Nehemiah is meant, or whether some third place is
intended.

⁸with him is an arm of flesh; but with us is the

Lord our God to help us, and to fight our
battles. And the people rested themselves
upon the words of Hezekiah king of Judah.
8. an arm of flesh] Compare Jeremiah xvii. 5. Contrast the
frequent phrase “a mighty hand and a stretched out arm” (of
Jehovah). An “arm” is an ally or helper.

with us is the Lord] Compare xv. 2, xx. 17; Isaiah viii. 10.
 9‒19 (compare 2 Kings xviii. 17‒35).
Sennacherib’s Threatening Messages.

In this section Chronicles briefly and freely summarises 2 Kings.

⁹After this did Sennacherib king of Assyria

send his servants to Jerusalem, (now he was
before Lachish, and all his power with him,)
unto Hezekiah king of Judah, and unto all
Judah that were at Jerusalem, saying,
9. his servants] Three of these are specified in 2 Kings by their
titles, viz. the Tartan (“Commander-in-chief”), the Rabsaris (perhaps
“Chief of the Princes”), and the Rabshakeh (“Chief of the officers or
cup-bearers”).

now he was before Lachish] The capture of Lachish by

Sennacherib and its spoliation are shown on an Assyrian relief now
in the British Museum. The king himself besieged Lachish because it
was of more importance for the main object of the campaign than
Jerusalem. Sennacherib’s objective was Egypt (Herodotus II. 141),
and Lachish (Tell el-Ḥesi, Bädeker, Palestine⁵, p. 118) lay directly in
his path (compare Handcock, Latest Light on Bible Lands, p. 151).

¹⁰Thus saith Sennacherib king of Assyria,

Whereon do ye trust, that ye abide the siege ¹
in Jerusalem?
¹ Or, in the strong hold.

10. in Jerusalem] Isaiah promised deliverance in Jerusalem; e.g.

in Isaiah xxix. 8, xxx. 19.
 ¹¹Doth not Hezekiah persuade you, to give you
over to die by famine and by thirst, saying,
The Lord our God shall deliver us out of the
hand of the king of Assyria?
11. persuade] Or “entice”; compare 1 Chronicles xxi. 1
(“provoked” for the same Hebrew word).

¹²Hath not the same Hezekiah taken away his

high places and his altars, and commanded
Judah and Jerusalem, saying, Ye shall
worship before one altar, and upon it shall ye
burn incense?
12. Hath not the same Hezekiah taken away] Besides this appeal
to the religious prejudices of the people, Sennacherib’s servants
employed two other arguments, according to 2 Kings—(1) the
paucity of Hezekiah’s soldiers (2 Kings xviii. 23) and (2) possible
reliance on Egyptian help (2 Kings xviii. 21, 25). These two
arguments are passed over by the Chronicler doubtless because
they seemed inconsistent both with the power and the character of a
king so God-fearing as Hezekiah.

his high places] compare 2 Kings xviii. 4. The “high places”

(bāmōth) were properly sanctuaries of Jehovah, and not necessarily
idolatrous in themselves. But since originally all, or almost all, of
these bāmōth had been sacred places of the Canaanite gods, old
idolatrous symbols (e.g. the ashērah) and old idolatrous ideas and
rites persisted in the worship there offered. When finally the Jews
restricted sacrificial worship to Jerusalem, the odium attaching to
these “high places” became greater than ever, and hostility towards
them came to be regarded as the mark of any pious monarch.
Hezekiah removed the bāmōth throughout the country.
 ¹³Know ye not what I and my fathers have
done unto all the peoples of the lands? Were
the gods of the nations of the lands any ways
able to deliver their land out of mine hand?
¹⁴Who was there among all the gods of those
nations which my fathers utterly destroyed ¹,
that could deliver his people out of mine hand,
that your God should be able to deliver you
out of mine hand? ¹⁵Now therefore let not
Hezekiah deceive you, nor persuade you on
this manner, neither believe ye him: for no god
of any nation or kingdom was able to deliver
his people out of mine hand, and out of the
hand of my fathers: how much less shall your
God ² deliver you out of mine hand? ¹⁶And his
servants spake yet more against the Lord
God, and against his servant Hezekiah.
¹ Hebrew devoted. ² Or, gods.

13. the peoples of the lands] In 2 Kings xviii. 34 the lands are
specified and include Samaria.

¹⁷He wrote also letters ¹, to rail on the Lord,

the God of Israel, and to speak against him,
saying, As the gods of the nations of the
lands, which have not delivered their people
out of mine hand, so shall not the God of
Hezekiah deliver his people out of mine hand.
 ¹ Or, a letter.

17. to rail on] Or, to defy (the same Hebrew word as in 2 Kings
xix. 4, 16, 22, 33, and there rendered “reproach”).

¹⁸And they cried with a loud voice in the Jews’

language unto the people of Jerusalem that
were on the wall, to affright them, and to
trouble them; that they might take the city.
18. in the Jews’ language] i.e. in Hebrew. From the parallel
passage, 2 Kings xviii. 26 ff., it is evident that the language of
diplomacy at this time in Western Asia was Aramaic (“Syrian,” 2
Kings); and that, whilst understood by the Jewish leaders and
officials, it was not yet intelligible to the common people. In the
negotiations the Rabshakeh showed clearly that his object was not
to treat with Hezekiah, but to excite a revolt among the Jews against
Hezekiah and so gain possession of the city.

¹⁹And they spake of the God of Jerusalem, as

of the gods of the peoples of the earth, which
are the work of men’s hands.
19. the God of Jerusalem] For this designation compare Psalms
cxxxv. 21.

20‒23 (compare 2 Kings xix. 1‒4, 14‒19, 35‒37).

Hezekiah and Isaiah pray. The Deliverance.

This section is a very brief summary of 2 Kings xix.

²⁰And Hezekiah the king, and Isaiah the

prophet the son of Amoz, prayed because of
this, and cried to heaven.
 20. And Hezekiah ... and Isaiah ... prayed] According to Kings,
Hezekiah prayed, and was answered by God through the medium of
a message delivered by Isaiah the prophet (2 Kings xix. 20‒34).

heaven] Here used reverently for “God”; compare xxviii. 9; Daniel

iv. 26; Luke xv. 21.

²¹And the Lord sent an angel, which cut off all

the mighty men of valour, and the leaders and
captains, in the camp of the king of Assyria.
So he returned with shame of face to his own
land. And when he was come into the house
of his god, they that came forth of his own
bowels slew him ¹ there with the sword.
¹ Hebrew caused him to fall.

21. all the mighty men] In number 185,000 according to 2 Kings

xix. 35 and Isaiah xxxvii. 36. The agency was probably the plague,
which is pictured as a destroying angel in 2 Samuel xxiv. 16.

And when he was come] The murder of Sennacherib did not

occur till some 20 years after his Judean expedition (circa 701 b.c.),
i.e. not till 681 b.c.

they that came forth] The Chronicler no doubt follows Isaiah

xxxvii. 38, “Adrammelech and Sharezer his sons smote him”; but the
accuracy of the present text of this passage of Isaiah is doubtful, for
in the parallel passage (2 Kings xix. 37, Kethīb) the words his sons
are missing. The only notice of Sennacherib’s death known to us at
present from the inscriptions reads “Sennacherib king of Assyria was
slain by his son (singular) in a revolt.” No name is given to this son.
(Driver in Hogarth, Authority and Archaeology, p. 109.)
 ²²Thus the Lord saved Hezekiah and the
inhabitants of Jerusalem from the hand of
Sennacherib the king of Assyria, and from the
hand of all other, and guided them on every
side.
22. guided them on every side] Read, as the LXX., gave them
rest on every side; compare xx. 30.

²³And many brought gifts unto the Lord to

Jerusalem, and precious things to Hezekiah
king of Judah: so that he was exalted in the
sight of all nations from thenceforth.
23. brought gifts] Compare Psalms lxviii. 29; Isaiah xviii. 7;
Haggai ii. 7, 8.

24‒33 (compare 2 Kings xx.; Isaiah xxxviii., xxxix.).

Hezekiah’s Sickness. The Ambassadors from Babylon.
Hezekiah’s Death.

²⁴In those days Hezekiah was sick even

unto death: and he prayed unto the Lord; and
he spake unto him, and gave him a sign ¹.
¹ Or, wonder.

24. Remark that this single verse epitomises 2 Kings xx. 1‒11.

In those days] The phrase is taken over from 2 Kings xx. 1, and it
cannot be determined what date is intended, though we may
conclude from 2 Kings xx. 6 that it was a time at which the Assyrian
danger was not yet past, and that it was about the fourteenth year of
Hezekiah (compare Barnes on 2 Kings xx. 1).

he spake] The Hebrew word means, in certain connections, “to

promise,” and the idea of “promise” is present here, the sense being
“God made him a promise and confirmed it by a wonder”; compare 2
Kings xx. 5, 6, 8‒11.

a sign] Rather, a wonder (margin), as in verse 31.

²⁵But Hezekiah rendered not again according

to the benefit done unto him; for his heart was
lifted up: therefore there was wrath upon him,
and upon Judah and Jerusalem.
25. his heart was lifted up] Compare verse 31; 2 Kings xx. 12‒15.

wrath] Hebrew ḳeṣeph, a visitation of Divine wrath; compare xix.

2, 10, xxiv. 18, xxix. 8.

²⁶Notwithstanding Hezekiah humbled himself

for the pride ¹ of his heart, both he and the
inhabitants of Jerusalem, so that the wrath of
the Lord came not upon them in the days of
Hezekiah.
¹ Hebrew the lifting up.

26. humbled himself] Compare 2 Kings xx. 19.

²⁷And Hezekiah had exceeding much riches

and honour: and he provided him treasuries
for silver, and for gold, and for precious
 stones, and for spices, and for shields, and for
all manner of goodly vessels;
27. riches and honour] Compare 2 Kings xx. 13 (= Isaiah xxxix.
2).

shields] Hebrew māginnōth, i.e. small round shields. Perhaps,

like Solomon’s (ix. 15, 16), they were overlaid with gold or silver.
Barnes suggested the reading migdānōth, “precious things” (as in
verse 23), instead of māginnōth. LXX. ὁπλοθήκας, i.e. “armouries”;
Peshitṭa (text being doubtful here) “shields” or “pearls” or “precious
gifts.”

²⁸storehouses also for the increase of corn

and wine and oil; and stalls for all manner of
beasts, and flocks in folds.
28. flocks in folds] The “folds” were enclosures with high stone
walls as a defence against robbers and wild beasts. The text is
probably faulty; Peshitṭa omits the clause.

²⁹Moreover he provided him cities, and

possessions of flocks and herds in
abundance: for God had given him very much
substance.
29. cities] The context suggests that these cities were meant
chiefly as places of refuge for the flocks and herds in time of war; but
again it is probable that the text is corrupt, and that this word should
be omitted.

³⁰This same Hezekiah also stopped the upper

spring of the waters of Gihon, and brought
them straight down on the west side of the city